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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737332">not a good look for an angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades'>ZephyrOfAllTrades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Fluff, Greaser!Aziraphale, They just talk, about hanging out with the wrong sort, i don't really know how to tag this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:55:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Tumblr art.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompts [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>not a good look for an angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt link is <a href="https://zephyrofalltrades.tumblr.com/post/635867781049597952/art-style-what-art-style-i-draw-by-moods">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>
    
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Angel, what in Satan's name were you doing with those greasers?" the demon growled as Aziraphale turned the motorcycle's engine off and engaging the stand to keep it upright.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Crowley..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"You'd get a hell of a bollocking when Heaven gets a wind of this--" he almost screeched looking at the angel, his angel, in a leather jacket and jeans with no waistcoat or bowtie to be seen, slouching forward. He almost tore his hair out. Aziraphale does not slouch.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Crowley, I--"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Do you want to Fall? Because hanging around with the wrong sort will make you Fall--" That was a truth he'd learned long ago, and he can't let the same thing happen to Aziraphale.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Crowley!" the blonde finally snapped.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The red-head stopped his pacing, turning his full attention on Aziraphale. He looked drained, mouth turned woefully down and a sadness leaking from his gaze. He carded a hand through his already windswept hair before responding.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"They need me," he whispered, and held up a hand before the red-head could interrupt again. "They're just kids, Crowley. They're humans like the rest of them, just choosing to dress in an aesthetic they like. You can't put the blame on them all when the mischief's done by just a few."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"But you know how your lot are, angel. It's not a good look for an angel," Crowley begged, but without the previous vim.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Perhaps," the blonde's eyes turned steely, then softened once more. "But they are the ones who must be reminded that they don't need to conforme to the stereotypes. Despite the jabs, despite the glares, they can still be themselves. That they can also choose to be better despite the image they portray. I've seen them play with their siblings. I've seen them carry groceries for their mothers. I've seen them hold an old lady's hand as they helped her cross the street. No matter how rough they act, I know, deep down, they're good people. And I won't abandon them that easily."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Aziraphale..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"You of all beings should know that," the angel breathed out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"I-I do, angel...," Crowley said quietly, blinking furiously to dispel the curious wetness in his eyes. "I do," and thank you, he added in his head, knowing better than to say it aloud. "Just-- keep away from trouble, yeah?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>"Oh, my dear," the blonde reached out a hand to wipe away a stray tear then let it fall to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. He smiled at Crowley then, fond and teasing. "And miss out on you dashing in to save me? I think not."</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p>
<p>Please don't repost the art without credit and/or permission.</p>
<p>Come visit my Tumblr <a href="https://zephyrofalltrades.tumblr.com/">here</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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